All the Same
by The Unforgettable Sound
Summary: Nick never thought he'd get that sort of phone call. When it happened, he was more than surprised to hear who the victim was. NickGreg slash. better summary soon. contains kidnapping. read AN at bottom for info...
1. Chapter 1

All the Same

The Unforgettable Sound

PG-13

Summary: Nick never thought he'd get that sort of phone call. When it happened, he was more than surprised to hear who the victim was. NickGreg slash.

Chapter One - Nick

The day was slow and the team was moping, almost wishing that something would happen just so they could get out of the lab.

Nick was sitting in the break room, eating lunch and catching up with Warrick. Some sort of sports game was playing in the background though neither were listening or paying any attention.

Staring into his cup of coffee, he didn't even notice that has phone had started to ring. His mind was too indulged as to why Greg hadn't come into work yet.

"Nick, your phone," Warrick said, trying to jar Nick from his trance. The CSI jumped and looked at his coworker, confused. "Your phone, man - its ringing," he raised his eyebrows at Nick. "You okay?" Warrick asked, looking oddly at him.

He nodded and checked the ID. "It's unknown, I'll let it go to voicemail," several minutes passed and Nick finally check his voicemail for the left message.

"Hello, Mr. Stokes. I do believe I have one of your coworkers in custody," there was a laugh and Nick swallowed. Coworker. The only person who... "You have forty-eight hours to find them. And without leads, how will you do it? I want twenty five thousand dollars by noon this Friday, or...the object of your affection shall die,"

Nick pulled the phone away and checked the missed call information again, just to make sure. No number, no name.

"I, uh...got...just..." he set up the voicemail again and handed his phone to Warrick. He listened before checking for a number as well. He sighed as he passed the phone back to Nick and rubbed his forehead.

"There's only one CSI that's not at work today,"

Nick swallowed and nodded. "Greg," Nick stood up, heading off to tell Grissom, but Warrick stopped him. "Wait, Nick...object of your affection...Is...is there something between Greg and you?"

Nick's throat suddenly went dry. He remembered something Warrick had said that he heard from Catherine. _We've gotta follow the evidence, even if we don't like where it takes us. _He shook his head and pulled out of Warrick's grasp. Lying to his best friend...had he sunk that low?

---

When Nick had walked into Grissom's office, the first thing that he heard was "Nicky, you know Greg pretty well, do you have any idea where he's at? He's three and a half hours late for work, I'm beginning to think he's not going to show up and I--Nick?" Grissom shot a quizzical look towards the CSI and furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong, did something happen to Greg?"

Nick just handed the phone to his boss and could only watch as his boss listened to the voicemail. "Take this to Archie and have him analyze the message - there's a voice in the background. Tell him I said to make it top priority. I won't lose him after everything he's gone through,"

Now Nick stood in Archie's lab, waiting for him to analyze the strange voice Grissom have noticed. After clearing the kidnappers voice and enhancing the voice in the background a bit, Archie maxed out the volume and played it for Nick and Grissom, the latter just walking in.

Whoever it was had been crying. "Please, don't do this..the crime lab hasn't done anything to you...please,"

Nick could recognize that voice anywhere. Obviously, Grissom could, too; there was a knowing look on his face and he gave a grim look to the CSI. "We'll find him Nicky,"

---

Nick's phone was set up to trace the call. Grissom had figured the killer would call again, as most killers asking for money did.

Sure enough, he did. After a nod of approval from Grissom, Nick answered. "Stokes,"

"Ah, Mr. Stokes. Nice to finally speak with you," Nick looked down at the paper, his reference sheet - questions that were approved to ask Greg's kidnapper. Grissom had composed it and told Nick that only questions on that page were aloud to be spoken from his mouth.

"What do you want?" he asked, fighting the strong impulse to scream and demand he give up where he was holding Greg.

"Oh Mr. Stokes, you know what I want. $25,000. In 46 hours. Or Mr. Sanders will not live to see his next birthday,"

"We need to know your current residence in order to drop off the money," he said, voice breaking. What if something happened to Greg before they had a chance to find him?

The kidnapper laughed. "Do you really think I'm that stupid? No. Bring it to the corner by that coffee shop near your lab and - will you shut up?! I didn't keep you here so you could moan! Do you want to go down to the basement? J - oh, fine. Mr. Stokes, someone wishes to speak with you," there was a bit of rustling, then "Nick...please, Nicky, help me..."

Nick swallowed and tried to keep his voice from breaking. "We're trying, Greg, just...hang in there, please. If there's any information you can give us, it'll help,"

"I'll try to, but I..uh...'my parents named me Roy G. Bix, upon a hill I will live...No more driveways no more bikes...itself and new are quite alike,"

Nick swallowed again, wondering how Greg could possibly think about childish poems at a time like this. It didn't come as much as a surprise - it _was_ Greg. "Greg, that's...wonderful, but I need a clue and-," There was a pained cry and someone was laughing. Adrenaline rushed through Nick's veins. "Greg! Greg, are you alright?"

"Mr. Stokes, you now have forty-two hours thanks to your dear coworker. I want the money by six AM, Friday," dial tone.

Nick looked up to Grissom, who was shaking his head. They didn't get a chance to trace it. He set his head in his arms on the table as he realized tears were coming to his eyes. He couldn't help Greg. He'd die in the house of his kidnapper, without ever seeing Nick again.

A comforting hand found his shoulder. "Nicky, I need you to tell me exactly what Greg told you,"

Nick shook his head. "I...I can't, something about Roy G. Biv and bikes and...and..." he choked back a sob. "I can't lose him, Grissom, I can't,"

Grissom nodded. "I know Nicky, but I really need to hear what he told you," Grissom said, hand still on his shoulder. It wasn't hard for him to figure out why Greg's kidnapping had made Nick so emotional. Either it hit too close to home with his own kidnapping, or there was a spark of something other than friendship in their relationship and Nick simply needed the young CSI to live through it.

Nick nodded and was silent, except for the sounds of him recomposing himself. "My parents...named me Roy G. Biv...on a hill...I will live...No more...driveways, no more bikes..." Nick fought to remember the last line. He thought it wasn't going to help and decided to store it away as something unimportant to the case at hand. "Itself and new are quite alike," Grissom wrote the poem down as Nick spoke, waiting patiently at his pauses. "There's nothing relevant about it,"

"Maybe it's a puzzle. Here, help me out,"

"Grissom I'm no good at puzzles. I shouldn't be sitting here trying to figure out something that's probably not helpful to finding Greg, I should be out looking for the bastard that took him!" Nick stood, but Grissom's stern gaze lowered him back into his chair.

"There's no other leads, Nicky. There's nothing that could help us besides this poem. We have no number, no name, no time he was taken, nothing. So the most you can do at this moment is at least try to help Greg, by sitting here and picking apart this poem.

"Now. I'll bet your better than you think you. Roy G. Biv...Sara!" Grissom called out to the hallway, making Nick's ears begin to ring. The woman turned and stood in the doorway. "I want you to do a search for a Roy G. Biv, just to make sure. Any name close to that would me helpful, so if you find any, bring them to me,"

"Sure thing, Griss," Sara walked back the way she came and Grissom turned back to the poem. "There's a strategy to solving puzzles. Roy G. Biv. Anything it can stand for?" Grissom raised his eyebrows expectantly. Nick just shrugged helplessly. "Come on, Nicky,"

"I _really_ don't have time for this. Greg maye only have forty hours left to live. I'm not just going to sit here and try to decode the stupid poem he told me when I could be rounding up ransom money,"

"Catherine's working on that already. And we have no leads, I've told you this. We can only wait. So sit back down, and think. Roy G. Biv,"

The room was silent for a moment - Grissom could almost hear the gears working in Nick's mind. "I honestly don't know," Nick said after a short time, shaking his head.

"Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Which is also..."

"The rainbow," Nick said, suddenly feeling stupid. He turned away as a blush rose to his face. Of course...the rainbow.

"Now, the "parents" part. Parents are something that have children...in this case, if it's a street or shop, which I assume it is, parents would mean founders. Rainbow Coffee, Rainbow Auto, Rainbow Foods or..." he trailed off. "Hill. The house may be on a hill or the land may be bumpy. No driveways, maybe they have to park on the street instead of parking lots or in a driveway. No bikes - maybe the area doesn't allow motorcycles?"

"What about the "new" bit?" Nick asked. Grissom thought a moment.

"Maybe it was rebuilt?" Nick let his head drop to the desk.

"He's going to die, all because we're too stupid to decipher his poem and find out where he is,"

"Nicky, don't give up. I have faith in you and the rest of our team. We'll find Greg alive. He's going to be okay,"

---

Twenty minutes later, Sara walked into the break room where Nick was currently residing. "Grissom sent me to tell you that there is a name with a slight resemblance to Roy G Biv. Records found a sixty-four year old male. He was charged with attempted rape, murder, and kidnapping. Roy George Beverly,"

"Is that the guy who took Greg?" Nick asked, suddenly filled with an emotion he hadn't come across in a while. He passed it off as nervousness, and sighed when Sara shrugged.

"I don't know. But...I can tell you that he lives on Rainbow Avenue, 1720. Red house. Should be an easy find,"

"Where's G--?"

"He's outside with Brass, waiting for you,"

---

"That the house?" Nick asked, pointing at a blood red house coming up on their right. It sent shivers down Nick's spine to think that Greg could be in there, being beaten or whipped or...He stopped the thought.

"Should be. 1720. Pull over, Jim," Grissom said, undoing his seatbelt and waiting for Brass to park. "No driveways, Nicky," he noted.

The two CSI's followed the detective to the house and stood behind him when he answered the door.

Suddenly, something hit Nick. "Grissom, Rainbow Avenue. New! Maybe that''s what Greg meant by itself and new are quite alike,"

Grissom smiled knowingly and was about to tell Nick he had already figured it out when someone answered the door. "Hello..."

"Roy George Beverly? Detective Jim Brass. This is Nick Stokes and Gil Grissom, they're with the crime lab,"

"Based on your name, we'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's alright," Grissom added, in a kinder tone. "May we come in?" Roy nodded and invited them in.

Brass and Grissom took seats on the couch while Mr. Beverly took the chair. "Mr. Stokes, please, sit,"

"No, thanks," he said. "I'd prefer to stand," he couldn't trust himself to sit down. He needed to look around, keep his mind off Beverly directly or he'd lose control. He looked to the right and something caught his eye. A rope on the floor. Grissom was deep in conversation now, and had distracted Mr. Beverly. Knowing he couldn't touch it, he "accidentally" kicked it. It flew across the room. It wasn't attached to anything. either this wasn't the guy or he was being kept elsewhere.

Nick let out a sigh and continued looking. There was a bit of a crack in the wall, trying to be covered by a bookcase and a very large painting of what appeared to be an abstract naked woman.

"Mr. Beverly, what's behind this wall?"

Beverly smiled. "Oh, nothing you should worry about...unless you've got a search warrant,"

Nick looked to Grissom for help. "Nicky, it's the law, we have to obey it or we could lose our jobs,"

"I don't care if I lose my job, Grissom, I just want Greg back," he said. There was an emotion in his eyes Grissom couldn't quite put his finger on, but it was gone in a flash.

"If that's all your questions, I have some business to attend to, so if you will..." he gestured towards the door.

"We'll be in touch," Brass nodded.

"I hope you find your CSI soon. And if there's any way I can help..."

Nick opened his mouth and took a breath, but Grissom shot him a look. "We'll let you know,"

With only thirty eight hours left, Nick was getting restless and shaky, millions of possibilities going through his head.

What if they already killed him? It made Nick's stomach clench, just thinking about it. Every outcome came with an image, and seeing an unmoving Greg in a pool of blood was the worst.

What if he was kept alive, but the kidnapper never gave him back? This thought nearly brought tears to the edges of the CSIs eyes. There's no way that Nick Stokes could live without seeing Greg one more time.

His phone ringing jerked him from his thoughts. Unknown name. He took a deep breath and answered. "Stokes," there was a scream in the background, another person laughing.

"Mr. Stokes, have you gotten my money yet?"

"No...I...we're working on it,"

"Tsk tsk tsk...publicity like _that_. Isn't that negative publicity in your labs eyes? Do tell,"

A particularly loud scream shook Nick's core and he had to ask. "What are you doing to him?" he demanded, images falling through his mind.

"Oh, Mr Sanders? Nothing. Nothing at all." Nick laughed. It sounded strange to his ears and he stopped, suddenly, giving him a bit of a "hahahah - serious" moment.

"Don't lie to me," he said through clenched teeth.

"Let's just say the he need to be whipped into shape...would you like to speak with him?"

Nick scoffed. "You wouldn't let me,"

"Oh, on the contrary. Mr. Sanders, would you like to speak with your coworker?"

Seconds passed that seemed like hours. Through the phone, Nick heard doors close and the only sound was that of someone sobbing.

"Greg?" Nick asked softly. "Greg, I...it'll be alright. We'll find them...you," moments dragged on and on, and finally Greg was able to speak.

"I...I don't know how much more of this I can take, Nicky," he whispered. Nick suddenly wished that he could be where Greg was - anything to have that smile, that hair, that personality back in the lab, safe and sound.

"You have to hold on. For the team...for us..." he hesitated, then continued. It could give Greg strength. "For me. Please. Don't give up yet,"

There was the smallest trace of a smile in his next words. "I'll try Nicky but I'm not promising anything,"

"You don't have to promise. Just think about what you'll see when you get out of there. We'll be waiting for you,"

-end chapter one-

_I'm not sure what to think of this. I almost want to make a story where Nick's kidnapped, get away from the mainstream plotline, but they've already done that on the show and I don't wanna be redundant to _that_ extent...anyway...this was originally two chapters, but the first chapter was extremely small and I dislike it, so I threw them both together. Time seems to fly by quickly, but...oh well. Expect the next chapter soon enough...the title comes from a song that went along with a nick/greg video I saw on YouTube...belongs to The Sick Puppies. I love it. A lot. Possibly too much. Reviews are very much appreciated. I plan on getting a better summary soon._


	2. Chapter 2

All the Same

The Unforgettable Sound

PG-13

Summary: Nick never thought he'd get that sort of phone call. When it happened, he was more than surprised to hear who the victim was. NickGreg slash.

Chapter Two - Greg

The room was dark as he spoke to Nick. He found himself feeling oddly like a child and out of place as he sobbed. Greg thought about telling that to Nick, but his coworker spoke before he had a chance.

Greg? Greg, I...It'll be alright. We'll find them,"

"I don't know how much more of this I can take, Nicky," he whispered, starting to shiver. Admitting such a thing in front of his kidnappers - well, not in front - they were looking in through a small window in the door - - wasn't always a good idea. They then knew your breaking point and could use it against you.

"You have to hold on. For the team. For us..." Nick hesitated and Greg was about to say something when he continued. "For me. Please, don't give up yet,"

That comment put the smallest smile on his face. "I'll try, Nicky, but I'm not promising anything,"

"You don't have to promise. Just think about what you'll see when you get out of there. We'll be waiting for you,"

Nick's face suddenly appeared in Greg's mind. "Yeah, alright. Nick?"

"Yeah Greggo?"

"I...thanks. For everything. If I don't make it out of here..."

"No, Greg, don't think about that,"

"...I want you to know you're an amazing person and work wouldn't have been nearly as interesting without you,"

"The same goes for you, Greggo. I'll see you soon,"

And Nick was gone. Greg sat, stunned. The phone dropped to the cement floor. It was all Greg could do to not begin sobbing again. Why did he just hang up? Had something happened? Did they leave to take Nick too?

No. They couldn't have...Could they? He tried to crane his neck to see if they were still there, but he couldn't see. His restrains tightened as he struggled and he let out another cry, sinking to the floor.

Both hands handcuffed to poles on either side of him, Greg had no way of getting away. Unless...an idea popped into the young CSI's mind.

He stood up, back and chest aching from his wounds; he was determined and barely noticed the pain. He braced himself and slowly "walked" up the poles, one foot on each pole.

He was getting closer...feet...inches...centimeters...

"What are you doing?" a gruff voice said, making Greg jump and fall, landing at an awkward and very painful angle. "You weren't trying to get away were you?"

"No, I-I..." he stuttered. He couldn't endure another round of their torture - no way in hell could he live through it. His body suddenly seared with pain and he let out a cry.

"Good. The boss wants me to keep an eye on you. Don't move from that spot,"

_Like I could_, Greg thought, rolling his eyes. He was getting sick of staring at the wall, and he wasn't afraid to voice this to the current guard - he was obviously the stupid sidekick. He didn't receive an answer.

Soon, he heard snoring, an obvious sign he was asleep. Greg readied himself for the climb and made it to the top once again. The poles were topped with rounded silver balls, and the chances of them coming off were slim.

Greg tried anyway. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing. Out of pure desperate need, he pulled at it as much as he could with the little leeway he had. It came off. His right arm was free. He lifted the other side of the handcuff until it came off and began pulling and tugging the top of the left pole.

Within moments, he was free. Handcuffs still attached to his wrists, he grabbed his belongings that they had taken off him from the floor and exited the room as quietly as he could.

The house was eerily quiet and somehow, Greg managed to find his way out.

Street lights met his eyes and fresh air heightened his senses.

Outside.

He was free.

He made a mad dash down the street, not paying attention to where he was going or the constant ache all over his body. He was free and now all that mattered was for him to get out of this neighborhood as fast as he could and get onto a busy street where he could call someone, anyone, for help.

But Rainbow Street was so long and he had to rest. The benches in the park to his left were so inviting and he had to sit down.

So he did. He pulled his hoodie over his head, grateful for the new warmth. He hissed as the fabric came in contact with his wounds and stung.

Something was in his pocket. Small...blocky...he took it out.

Phone. He could call someone now. He didn't have to wait for a payphone!

Greg hit the power button. Nothing happened. Again. Again. He checked the battery and discovered there was none.

"Looking for this?" a voice asked, holding up a rectangular object. The battery. "Nobody likes a runaway, Mr. Sanders," his kidnapper laughed. "Come on, back to the house with you,"

"How...did you...I..."

"Did you really think I trust Travis? He's a twit with no brain. I was watching you, you're quite the runner, Mr. Sanders, did you participate in sports as a child?"

Greg stuttered a moment before taking off running again.

"Oh for Chrissakes," and there was a loud noise, a very loud noise, resembling a gunshot, and Greg's leg was searing, burning, and he fell to the ground, holding back sobs as he grabbed at his leg. "Mr. Sanders...do you really want to make this job longer for your coworkers?"

Greg closed his eyes tightly as he felt tears come to his eyes. If only he had kept running.

_You don't have to promise. Just think about what you'll see when you get out of there. We'll be waiting for you._

Nick's face appeared in his mind again before his kidnapper and everything else around him faded to black.

**Nick**

Twenty-four hours left. One day. Catherine had managed to get 25,000 from her father, who did little complaining about paying for her coworkers stupid screw-ups.

Nick sat in the break room once again with Warrick and Catherine; Sara and Grissom had left to do more research on street names in Vegas.

"Avenue...alright...itself and new are quite alike...maybe..."

"There's another street name? Rainbow Road or Trail or maybe Rainbow Drive?" Catherine asked, raising an eyebrow. Nick decided that once all of this was over he was going to move to a different area of Vegas. And beg Greg to move with him.

"Or maybe signs are misleading? Maybe one says Avenue and another says whatever and it's the same street,"

Nick shook his head. "Rainbow Avenue wasn't on a hill and it wasn't uneven land. There's no way it's the same road...well...assuming Greg's poem is correct," he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Grissom should be doing this, not us,"

"Don't worry, Nicky, we'll find him. We found you, didn't you?"

Nick was sent into a series of memories. He had forgotten completely about his own kidnapping and was suddenly shot back into replayed bits and pieces that made him feel like...dying.

Whenever it was brought up, Nick felt like a child who couldn't be left alone. He liked to avoid thinking about it as much as he could.

"Nick?" Warrick asked, shaking his coworker from his thoughts.

"Yeah...yeah you did,"

--

Twenty hours left. They had found out that there _was_ two Rainbow named streets - Rainbow Avenue and Rainbow Drive. Nick found this extremely tedious, especially since he had to ask many people if they knew anything about Roy Beverly and if they did, they had to go through the trouble of asking how much they knew about him.

Nick was about to go crazy, until they met someone who helped them out.

"Roy Beverly? Oh sure, I know him. We went to high school together, until he transferred. Kids used to make fun of him, said his name was almost the rainbow so he was a fairy,"

Nick shifted and Grissom gave him a curious look. "Scott Lammer, is it? Were you one of those kids?"

Scott Lammer laughed. "Never,"

Nick cleared his throat. "Any particular reason for that?" it wasn't linked to the case, but...he was curious. And, you never know, it could help out in the end.

Lammer smiled. "Would you like me to show you?" he stepped towards Nick, who immediately noticed what he was doing and stepped away. Lammer nodded. "Roy and I got along fine. We kept in touch for a while after he transferred, but then he got into the wrong crowd and we stopped speaking,"

Grissom nodded. "Were you two ever lovers?" Nick was surprised at the soft and understanding tone of his voice when he asked the question. He could never make it seem like it didn't make a difference, even if he himself was attracted to men.

"Lovers? No. Roy said early on that he wasn't interested in me. Thought we were better off as friends," Lammer smiled and lit up a cigarette, eyeing Nick. "You're almost too cute to be a CSI. Almost,"

Nick coughed, awkwardness settling back in. "Are you aware of Mr. Beverly's charges when he was in prison?"

Lammer nodded again. "Yeah, yeah, I, uh...was in charge of his...animals while he was away,"

"You watched them for thirty years? Was he capable of watching them on his own when he got out on probation?" Lammer shrugged and took a drag from his cigarette, making Nick jumpy. With less than twenty hours left, things were getting closer and closer to Greg's death time. And every second mattered.

"Roy kept me around for a while, said it'd help him get used to living on his own,"

Nick caught a missing piece from his timeline. "Did you and Mr. Beverly patch things up before he headed off to prison?"

"Yeah, we did. Forgot about that,"

"Well, Mr. Lammer, we'll be in touch,"

--

Sixteen hours. Few leads. Nick was once again seated in the break room. His phone vibrated in his pocket. Roy. Nick answered it, wishing immediately he wouldn't've.

"Nicky...Th...He's going to do it, I know he is,"

"Do what, G, what?"

"Please, don't," he heard Greg's voice say, followed by a light cry, and he knew something had happened.

"Greg, what's going on? What's happening?" but all he could hear was Greg's cries and painful moaning, and..._laughter_. Then it was gone. Over. Nothing.

Nick hung up and was about to scream, knowing something bad - no, horrible - had happened to Greg, and he couldn't do anything to save him.

His phone rang again and Grissom began speaking before Nick even had the chance to greet him.

"We found Greg. 1720 Rainbow Street," Nick sat up.

"Really? How?"

"Let's just say the Internet is very helpful when you know who to ask," Grissom said. Nick was silent. "Wait outside; we'll be right there,"

--

Nick had never seen so many police cars before. There was close to twenty - Nick had lost count - and he wondered why Brass had called so many. He had confidence that he alone could take on whoever was in there with Greg.

He took a step forward, but Grissom stopped him. "Nick? Let Jim go first," Nick nodded and let the police clear the house. It seemed like hours before he heard the 'LVPD, open up' come from Brass's mouth, and even longer when he was motioned in.

He frantically searched for Greg, looking in every room, every closet, every cupboard - hey, you never know - any place that he could possibly be hidden. He couldn't find anything. He was about to fall over with failure when Grissom called to him.

"Nick, I found a basement!" he yelled. Nick nearly flew from the kitchen to the family room, where Grissom was standing next to an unopened door. Nick heard a strange moaning sound, automatically assuming it came from behind the door. Grissom waved a few policemen to where they were standing and smiled. "I checked around by the living room. There's not much of an angle upwards, so either this is a basement or there's a very steep climb to the attic. The house is too short to have a second level, so there's no chance that it does," he opened the door with a lock pick he had managed to find and let the policemen lead the way, him following Nick.

There was no light in the dark musky basement, which led Grissom to yelling for Sara and Catherine to bring their flashlights down. Warrick stood at the top to make sure they wouldn't be locked in if the door blew closed.

Flashlights illuminated most of the basement, but there was no signs of a cry or any moaning like he had heard upstairs. He double-checked, just to make sure, pushing his feelings of 'we're not going to find him' down as far as he could as he did so.

They had to find him. Nick couldn't continue on in Las Vegas - or as a CSI - if they didn't.


End file.
